Buy Her A Drink or Get Her a Chuck
by ramoneslover
Summary: RPF. Ed/Leighton. This follows my previous fic ‘Bad Boy Fetish’. He almost saw her as his because he had read the scenes that were coming ahead and they had practiced a bit. For fun. And her hips fit incredibly perfect on his.


**Buy Her A Drink or Get Her a Chuck by Rena**

PG-13 for language

I don't own Gossip Girl, Ed or Leighton or anything else. This is just for fun.

Pairing: Ed/Leighton (RPF)

Preview: This sort of follows my previous fic 'Bad Boy Fetish'. He almost saw her as his because he had read the scenes that were coming ahead and they had practiced a bit. For fun. And her hips fit incredibly perfect on his.

-----

You'd think she'd want a Prince Charming. Not that he was a Prince Charming or that he wanted to be her Prince Charming. They had, after all, to keep it professional. But she didn't want it even if he was. Chace was right. She was a wild cat. Life of the party, potty mouth and once or twice, while at ease, would burp and laugh about it. He still thought she was stunning.

He was there when she first became intrigued by Sebastian Stan. By then he almost saw her as his because he had read the scenes that were coming ahead and they had practiced a bit. For fun. And her hips fit incredibly perfect on his.

"Ok, tell tell," she waltzed up to him and Chace on a breezy night. She was in her Queen regalia, dressed in a stunning black gown while he and Chace relaxed in more common suits. She held her Masquerade mask lightly in her fingers, twirling it around flirtatiously. Her large brown eyes were fixed on the tall male talking to one of the producers and laughing.

"That's Seb, he was on set that week when you and Blake filmed outside, remember?" Chace told her, tossing his can of Coke. Ed watched her as her hip popped out in a flirtatious manner. A slow smirk appeared on her face.

"Chace, be a doll and introduce us," she snapped at Chace who, unlike his character was actually pretty astute.

Chace threw him a glance and Ed promptly stomped on his cigarette. He didn't care. He only cared for the fact that his character was finally getting his own storyline with the Queen Bee's legs wrapped all over him. He didn't care at all.

"We're going for drinks later on, want to come?"

Damn Chace and his niceness. He was rubbing off on the guy.

Her face lit up and Sebastian, noticing the attention, turned and threw her a tiny wink.

"Oh… I'm there." She stated and waltzed away.

Chace turned to him and inspected his rigid back. "You're over that, man, aren't you?"

"Was never under it," he stated without missing a beat and he thinks being in New York is making him a fabulous liar.

Filming ends around 10:15pm and they should all go home because they have to be on set at 6am but they are young, they have money and they're ready to have fun. She's waiting outside his trailer when he spots her, dressed in frayed jeans and a white tank top that shows off her purple bra. Her hair is up on a pony tail and she's chewing gum furiously. She's also wearing five-inch heals with red soles that make her taller than him.

"Ok, this is the plan," she tells him, looping her arm into his as he takes her in. Her lipstick is nearly red.

"We have a plan?" he asks, smiling at her.

"We have a plan, listen," she chides and he shakes his head as she spits out her gum. "I'm to have no more than 2 shots. Stop me if I go into three because I'm sure to wake up in his bed, ok?"

His groin stirs because somehow his mind heard his bed and all he can think is that he hasn't washed the sheets… but he realizes she means Sebastian Stan's bed. He bets Sebastian has fresh sheets. Probably black silk ones. She'd look marvelous in black silk sheets.

"Then you'll never show up to film and I believe we start our scenes tomorrow," he nodded.

"We do! Isn't it exciting? Finally a man for Blair, and a bad-boy at that!" she's smiling as they walk.

"She's had a man –"

"He's boring, no one wants a Prince Charming anymore," she states. "And she needs someone who brings out the tigress in her."

He laughs at this and offers her a fag which she takes and places it between her lips. He lights it for her and watches her inhale happily.

"You know if you get bored with Stan we can always practice our Chuck and Blair scenes, practice them to perfection," he nods.

Now it's her time to laugh, she flicks her cigarette. "You're such a dork, Westwick."

"Yes, that's what a man loves to hear," he grunts out and she laughs, kissing his cheek. But her attention quickly flutters when she spots the girls. She lets go of his arm and walks to them, he can hear her saying something about Stan.

So yes, he watches her. Watches as she plays darts with the guy who is obviously enchanted with her, her hair, her laugh, her ass, the way she makes knots with her tongue the stems of the cherries that she's stolen from his fruity drinks.

"You look like you'd rather be in a funeral," a soft voice says next to him. He turns and smiles.

"Nahh… just tired," he tells the girl.

Jessica smile and nods at Leighton's antics.

"He could be good for her, keep her entertained," she states and he glances at the new round of shots the other two are engaging on. Chace disappeared with a blonde from Kansas thirty minutes ago.

"Yeah… real good," he states and Jess laughs.

When Leighton wakes in his bed he's got his story prepared. But she doesn't even ask. She scrunches her nose at his sheets. He would've changed them if she wasn't dead weight last night. He slept in the couch. Like a gentleman should. That and the fact that she was in nothing but jeans and a tank killed him. The couch was a good option.

"I'm sorry –"

"God, Westwick! When did you wash these sheets?" she snaps and he wishes she woke with hangovers.

"The cleaning lady is coming today," he explains lamely.

She stretches in his bed, grunting loudly, showing off her smooth stomach as she arcs back. It's not right so he steps away. "Coffee. Shit, I need coffee."

"C'mon," he pulls at her. "We need to be in make-up in fifteen."

"Noo…" she whines but allows him to pull her up. They make it through the streets of New York with not a lot of attention, her with her huge sunglasses and him with a floppy hat and dirty sweater.

He wonders how she can chatter so very early in the morning and with a hang-over to boot.

But that's Leighton, she'll talk to a dying poodle if she think he'd listen.

"… and then I was like give me your number," she continues and he has trouble gulping down her little love story. "… and he wrote it in my arm, did I show you?"

"Yes," he says. He's not a morning person. His hair is partially stuck to his face, he can't manage to smile and he wants to sleep some more. She on the other hand looks bouncy and refreshed.

"I think I love him," she lets out a laugh.

He glances at her. He's becoming the girlfriend she confides in, he needs to stop this before it spirals out of control.

"Because he's got that bad-boy thing?" he snaps.

"You're such a bitch in the mornings, Weswtick, I swear. But yes, he's got that devilish thing going for him and he's got great abs," she continues.

He's starting a new workout regiment in the morning.

"Do you even know your lines?" he grunts, the trailer is within sight. Finally. He can hand her off to Cody.

She stops abruptly and smirks at him. She throws one arm around his neck and pushes her sunglasses back. He can smell the lingering alcohol in her breath as he breathes her in. It's too early for her games.

"Thanks for the lift home," she whispers and it takes him a moment to realize she's Blair. It's Blair. Are they practicing? Is she kidding? He can't keep up with her sometimes. At times he feels like such a small-town boy around her. Like he's always trying to catch up. Her firm breast are pressed against his chest and he gulps loudly.

"You were… amazing up there," he says slowly and she slowly smiles, looking into his eyes. Her sunglasses fall over her eyes and she smirks.

"We are going to be so fucking good, I can tell," and she leans forward and pecks him.

Her laugh is contagious and he's got to laugh with her while his hands rest on her hips.

"You like Chuck and Blair entirely too much, Leight," he states as he throws his arm around her and they keep walking.

"I know, it's ridiculous, they'll probably crash and burn," she's found gum in the pocket of his jacket and steals it from him.

"You think?" he asks, watching her stuff the gum into her mouth.

"As bad as he is? He'll break her heart." She says.

"What do you know? Maybe she'll break his heart, maybe she already has," he says quietly and he refuses to admit how close to her he's becoming.

"Like he's been in love with her all these years?" she asks, and she thinks over this, throwing it around in her head.

"Yeah, you know?" he nods.

"That can't be, then he'll actually be a good guy," she says and he can tell she can't handle this notion so he decides to push it. Push it until it breaks. Push it until they talk about something other than nonsense.

"Oh, that's brings him down a notch in your book, doesn't it?" he smirks at her.

"We always have this conversation, Westwick. If I didn't know you any better I'd think you'd want me to consider you." She snaps and pinches his cheek which makes him heat up.

He pushes her hand away. "Oh I wouldn't want to subject you to my good-guy ways."

"Pfft…" she throws her hand around. "It doesn't matter. I still like them, I want them to work out."

"Then you better get used to me," he says and smiles at her.

"I might, I might not," she says and bounces away. He watches her ass in those jeans and shakes his head. That afternoon Sebastian comes by the set and she's in her element. It's in that moment that he comes to a decision.

No more Mr. Nice-Guy.

He switches it up on her on their third take of the limousine kiss that is supposed to lead to sex. He's nervous, he bits her, he bangs his head – she's nearly laughing if she wasn't so tired.

No more Mr. Nice-Guy.

So he decides to claim her. Claim her as his. She might kiss Sebastian at night but late at night, when she's tangled in her boyfriend's limbs she'll look forward to kissing him in the morning. He'll make sure of it. He does it with his tongue until he leaves her breathless and confused.

"Cut!"

And they're staring at one another. A slow smile spread over her face as she takes him in. He's stunned her and he can't help but feel a little bit proud of himself.

"Not bad, Westwick." She whispers, she's still flushed.

"That was great, let's get more angles. Take it from the top!"

Her smile turns into a smile and he mirrors it. "Again?"

"Again," he nods. He thinks… he knows… that no matter how often they do this he'll never get used to it because if he acts well enough… he can pretend he's not the good guy.

---------

The end


End file.
